


I wish for this

by castielhowell



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Daneel was a one night stand, Family Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I might put some angst in it because I'm evil, I'm so sorry it doesn't mean I wish things to be that way, Jensen is an acting teacher, M/M, Misha is an author, Slow Burn, Sort Of, The twins don't exist, Vicky is dead, maybe some smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielhowell/pseuds/castielhowell
Summary: Maison wants her father to find love again, and she wishes for it one day when blowing on a dandelion.When she meets little JJ, she can't help but share her secret.Maison and JJ become best friends, and Misha and Jensen are kind of forced to see each other.Not that they mind.





	1. Dandelion

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously inspired by Misha's tweet (https://twitter.com/mishacollins/status/818947294120710146)  
> I apologize profusely if I don't write the kids really well but it's complicated, as I don't really know them (especially JJ)

"Did you know, Maison, that if you make a wish when blowing on a dandelion, the wish comes true?"

Maison looks up to her father, a playful grin on her lips and a slight frown on her brows. Misha gives her a small smile and nods towards the small flower. His daughter, now really focused, brings it to her mouth and blows hard but long, making the small seeds fly away, with a little help from the wind.

"I wish for this." the little girl lets out, happy, before jumping in her father's arms.

Misha chuckles and raises her in the air, making her giggle, then drops her, but catches her just before she hits the ground, breaking her into hysterical fits of laughter. They resume walking, admiring the mountains, peaceful.

Well, they look peaceful. Misha probably is. But inside, Maison is bubbling with happiness. She knows that, when you wish for something, it only works if you don't tell anyone. But she is already dying to tell her father that she wished he'd find love again. Since her mother died, two years ago, her father is lonely and, often, her and West have heard him crying in the middle of the night. It's been rarer and rarer these last few months, though, and she now craved for someone to make her dad complete again.

Of course, she misses her mom. West does too. But she is only a faint memory to her and even West who knew her better doesn't seem to be in pain anymore. So now, the only thing she knows is her dad needs someone by his side to be fully happy again.

"What did you wish for, Maisse?"

"Not telling!" she giggles, and he smiles.

"I have taught you well, munchkin." he laughs. "Do you think West will still be asleep in the van?"

Maison nods vigorously, and starts running towards the painted van. She bangs on the door, but her father runs and catches her in his arms, stopping her, and, with a smile stretching his lips, he softly knocks on the door. "Delivery for West Collins!" he says loudly, in a singsong voice. The van echoes with a young boy's laughter, and the door slides open, revealing a ravished West. The boy tightly hugs his father, crushing his sister between them two.

"Can we go home now, dad? I want to cook!"

"Do you now?" Misha chuckles. He installs his children in the front seats before starting the engine. The mountains in the distance, bathing in a surreal green light, once again take Misha's breath away as they begin to get down to the valley. His heart is a strange mix of peace and melancholy. He used to come here often with Victoria, then with his whole little family. But even though he still misses his wife, he's at peace with her death and is grateful for the opportunity of coming with his kids.

Tomorrow is the beginning of the school year and Maison is going to school for the first time. She's not nervous, of course she isn't, but he is. For the first time in two years, he'll be alone at home all day long. He works from home, so did Vicky, so he's not used to being alone. Well. At least he's happy to send his daughter to school, she's been so impatient about it. And he knows she's gonna love it, so that's a good thing. He hopes she makes friends. More than her brother, at least. West is probably too _special_ for the "normal" kids, but he doesn't seem to mind. Misha having been called weird his whole life, he doesn't mind West following the same path, but he's more worried about the lack of interaction between his son and other kids.

"What do you want to cook for dinner, Westie?"

"Soup!" Maison exclaims, a sparkle in her eyes.

"Yes, a soup. With every vegetable in the fridge!" her brother smiles.

And so they do. Potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, peppers, turnips, cucumbers... They put everything they can, and West even adds some apple. Misha admires his kids, pride pulsing through him. He watches them stir the boiling soup, add spices, blow on the liquid before tasting it... God, he loves them.

They eat the -surprisingly good- soup in a comfortable silence, only interrupted now and again by West making a comment, then Misha announces it's time to go to bed and the siblings are soon tucked in bed. Misha lays a kiss on Maison's forehead.

"Goodnight, munchkin."

"Dad?" she lets out in a little tired voice. "Do you think you could be in love again?"

Misha stays silent for a while, thinking, petting his daughter's hair.

"I think so. But I would have to find a very special person for that, and I haven't found this person yet."

Maison hums in contentment, then turns away from her father, snuggling in the blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this first chapter! I will add new ones as soon as they're written.  
> If you spot any mistakes, please tell me :)  
> The next chapters will be way longer, I promise, this one was just setting a few things.
> 
> PS: I have no idea about which school they're supposed to be in, as I'm not American, if it's kindergarten, or primary school, or what, so I trusted internet and considered they're in kindergarten from 5 to 7 (JJ is 4 but well it was easier, she'll be 5 during the course of the year so).


	2. Blue Periwinkle

"Hurry up, dad!"

Maison is running all around the house, already dressed -in a weird combination of unbuttoned green overalls, a pink T-Shirt and a blue cardigan-, West is groaning because he put cocoa powder on his pajamas and Misha, who just got out of bed, suddenly feels like being alone at home is gonna be a blessing. He hardly got any sleep last night, his daughter's question playing on repeat in his head. He's satisfied with the answer he gave her, he just can't wrap his head around the reason why his daughter would ask him that. He shrugs, catching Maison in the middle of a knee-slide.

Once the kids are properly clothed and fed, the Collins family takes off to school. West is seemingly lost in his thoughts, fiddling with his hair, and Maison is bent forward in her seat, like she could speed up the car. Misha has rarely seen his daughter so excited, and it makes him particularly happy.

For the first time in what seems forever, he can't just drop West off at the doors, which makes him all giddy inside, like it was _his_ first day of school. He parks near the colourful building and gets them all out, taking Maison's hand -maybe gripping it too tight. As they walk down the hall, more and more children are around them, in every corner. Well, more like parents, actually, most of the kids seem to be in a secondary hall already, and, when they reach the receptionist's desk, Misha knows it's time to let go of his daughter's hand.

"I don't want to goooo!!!" the cry echoes through the hall.

The Collinses all turn their heads in a sudden and perfectly synchronised motion, to see a blonde little girl clinging to her father's leg, her cheeks wet with tears.

"JJ, honey, you have to! It's gonna be alright, you're gonna love it, just give it a go..."

Her father is petting her hair in an attempt to soothe her, with little to no effect. The kid keeps crying and screaming, obviously terrified.

Maison lets go of her father's hand and slowly makes her way to the blonde child -JJ. She lays her hand on her shoulder, and JJ immediately stops crying. The blonde turns around and her big green eyes meet Maison's blue ones. Maison offers her a bright smile and JJ wipes her tears away. Without another word, hand in hand, little knapsacks on their backs, they join the other kids, Maison leading JJ through the crowd.

Misha and JJ's father watch them go, stunned. They slowly turn to look at each other, their eyes the size of the Moon, before bursting out in laughter. Their hilarity lasts for long minutes, and before long, they're bent in two, tears gathering in their eyes. They don't even know why they're laughing anymore, but each time one tries to calm down, the other's laughter draws them in again. Their stomachs hurt, their cheeks too, everyone is looking at them, but they just can't seem to stop. After two full minutes, they finally succeed to calm down, still grinning and breathless, but silent.

JJ's dad holds out his hand, and Misha enthusiastically shakes it.

"Jensen, by the way, Jensen Ackles. That was my daughter, Justice Jay."

"Misha Collins. My daughter, Maison." he gestures towards the crowd of children. "And that..." he turns around to introduce West, but the little boy is long gone, and Misha shakes his head. "The boy who was with us was my son West. I can't believe he left without saying goodbye."

"Oh, _I_ can believe it. Kids get easily embarrassed, especially when it's their parents."

"Not West, though. I think he just got bored."

The two men chuckle. Misha feels happy, happier than he's been in months. Laughing this hard hadn't happened to him for so long... He turns to Jensen, smiling.

"Guess it's love at first sight."

Jensen's head snaps to the side, his face astonished.

"I'm sorry?!" his voice is a little higher than usual, Misha notices.

"No, no..." he chuckles. "Our daughters, I meant."

"Oh, yeah..." Jensen's face relaxes. "Yeah, I hadn't seen her calm down so suddenly for... well, ever. Maison must have some kind of magic in her."

Misha's smile softens, and he nods. As Jensen starts to leave, he follows him in a natural reflex, and once they're outside, Jensen heads to his car with a smirk. His car is a black Chevrolet Impala from 1967, if Misha's right, and it's absolutely gorgeous. Jensen obviously loves his car, seen as the vehicle seems brand new.

"I was gonna grab a coffee, you wanna come?" Jensen offers, holding the passenger door open.

"Sure!" Misha grins. "Thanks!"

He doesn't even know why he's climbing in a stranger's car, but Jensen seems friendly. And Misha had nothing planned this morning, anyway.

* * *

JJ and Maison have enjoyed the school tour, hand in hand, and now they have a little break before their first class. They sit in a corner, not letting go of each other's hand.

"My name is Maison. Yours is JJ?"

"Yes. Justice Jay, but dad says JJ."

"And your mom?"

"I don't have a mom."

Maison stays silent for a moment, then hugs JJ. When she pulls away, she's smiling.

"Me too, I don't have a mom." she says, happy to have something in common with her new friend. "But I want that dad is in love again, so he can be happy."

"Me too. Everybody has two parents, but we don't."

"My dad told me that when you blow on a dandelion and you make a wish, it comes true. I made a wish yesterday. If I tell you, will you tell nobody?"

JJ nods, her eyes glowing with excitement.

"I wished for my dad to be in love with someone." Maison whispers, leaning forward.

A smile invades JJ's lips and she leans forward as well until their noses touch.

"Your dad can be in love with my dad if you want!" she whispers back -so excitedly that half the room must have heard.

Maison gasps, then starts bouncing up and down and making happy noises.

"Yes, yes, yes!!" she squeals. "That would be AMAZING!"

They hug each other really tight, overexcited, only to be interrupted by their teacher announcing the beginning of the first class of the year.

* * *

 Jensen pulls over in the parking lot of a big café. He retrieves the keys, slides them in his pocket and winks at Misha before exiting the car. Misha soon follows casually, slamming the door and putting his hands in his jeans pockets and following Jensen inside. They pick a table, Jensen choosing the chair with its back to the room, leaving the comfy bench to Misha.

"You'll see, their coffee is absolutely divine. And it's not that expensive."

Misha nods enthusiastically, but he can't help feeling underdressed. The café is pretty chic and even Jensen is wearing a grey pullover on a black shirt and smart black pants, whereas Misha is just wearing blue jeans and a blue checkered shirt opened on a T-Shirt. He's never felt uncomfortable for that kind of reasons, but he just doesn't want to disappoint Jensen. Maybe "disappoint" is not the right word. He wants to make a good impression.

He looks up from the table and to Jensen's face, only to meet emerald green eyes staring at him. God, he hadn't noticed those eyes... A waiter clears his throat and they both snap out of their trance to look at him.

"What can I get you, gentlemen?"

"Coffee." Jensen blurts out, his face bright red.

"Coffee for me too, thanks." Misha says, looking at Jensen, his head tilted to the side. Is Jensen _embarrassed_? "And if you could bring the bill with them? It'd be easier for us all." The waiter nods then turns away. "Thanks." Misha repeats, a little late.

Jensen seems back to normal and Misha mentally shrugs. He's probably ashamed to have been caught staring at a guy. Misha himself isn't ashamed at all. He's pan, has always been, and Jensen is attractive. No big deal. A smile finds its way back to his lips. He's happy for Maison to have found a friend so quickly, and happy to have made a friend himself. What a good way to start the year.

"So! Jensen." he says, making the other jump in surprise. "What do you do, y'know, in life?"

"Not much, actually. I'm an acting teacher. Few hours a week, it's well paid, and the students are mostly cool, so..." he smiles. "What about you?"

"Well..." Misha laughs incredulously. "I guess it's destiny. I'm a dramatist!"

Jensen's eyes open wide, a smile spreading on his face. His eyes crinkle at the corner and his white teeth show off, and Misha is once more astonished by the beauty of the man. He doesn't know why, but he knows that he'd already trust Jensen with his life, after only half an hour spent with him. This is a nice feeling, actually, discovering someone who immediately accepts him and laughs with him like it's nothing.

Misha's thoughts are interrupted by two coffee cups slamming against the wooden table. The hot liquid is a warm brown and looks, indeed, delicious. Misha looks up to Jensen and the taller man smiles suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows, making Misha chuckle.

"It'll be 8 dollars for you, gentlemen." the waiter announces in a stern tone.

Misha's smile vanishes in a second, and he looks at Jensen with a panicked look, but Jensen has already taken out his wallet and is laying eight dollars in the waiter's hand.

"Dude, no way you're a buying me a four dollars coffee!" Misha hisses. "You said it wasn't expensive!"

"And it isn't, for the quality it is! Listen, I'm buying this time, we'll see about next time later."

"I'm sure it's not even worth it." Misha shakes his head.

Jensen's smile returns, and he gestures for Misha to taste his coffee. Misha reluctantly obeys, taking the cup to his mouth and blowing a little, before taking a sip, looking defiant. The look in his eyes, however, goes instantly from skeptical to astonished, and he closes his eyes, leaning in the taste, then swallowing slowly to appreciate the warmness slipping down his throat. He takes a bigger sip without opening his eyes, and he lets out a little moan. Damn, he loves it. It's bitter and sweet at the same time, earthy and wet, it's... perfect. It's the only way Misha could describe it. He's the best coffee he's ever tasted, and he tasted plenty. Before having West, Vicky and him travelled a lot, including in many coffee-producing countries, and he never tasted something so close to the perfect cup of coffee.

He opens his eyes, glad, oh so glad of having been wrong. Jensen is looking at him, a smirk twisting his lips in the sexiest way, making Misha chuckle softly.

"Don't look so smug, Jensen Ackles. I was wrong, alright, I admit it. It _is_ worth it."

"Told ya." the blond laughs, dropping two sugars in his own coffee.

"Dude, don't put _sugar_ in such a wonder! It's an insult!" Misha frowns, putting on his best shocked face.

"Ah, you're that kinda guy. I see." Jensen smirks, pretending to be offended.

"What kind?"

"The petty kind." Jensen laughs.

"I'm not _petty_ , I just like _coffee_!"

They keep bickering for a few minutes, each sentence from the other widening their smile. Soon enough their cups are empty, almost licked clean, and both men are grinning like idiots, lost in their thoughts. Misha is having the time of his life, and happiness is spreading through him. He rarely felt so well around/because of people, even with some of his closest friends. His closest friends who let him down one by one after Vicky's death.

Actually, if he thinks about it, the last time being with someone was so easy and felt so natural was with Vicky. With her, everything was simpler. But now that she's gone, Misha is both happy and terrified to find a new person to share that with.

"Jensen?" Misha suddenly asks, getting a hum in response. "Do you live with JJ's mom, or..."

"Nope." Jensen straightens up. "I live alone with JJ. Her mom... well, I'm not gonna tell my life story, but we don't... see her."

"If you wanna tell the story, I'd really like to hear it." Misha breathes, his voice softer than before.

Jensen shifts in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the subject, but starts his story anyway. He tells Misha how he met Daneel at a bar during the summer 2012, how he bought her a few drinks. Once they were slightly tipsy, the conversation had flown easily, and they had ended up at Daneel's place.

"It was a one-night-stand, I... it wasn't meant to..." Jensen sighs, and Misha can feel the shame radiating from him. "But when she got pregnant..."

He explains that Daneel didn't want to keep the child, so he begged and begged, until she accepted. He gave her money to help with all the pregnancy-related expenses, all nine months long.

"I couldn't... it was an accident, but it was _my_ child, y'know."

Misha nods and Jensen continues, explaining how he was there for JJ's birth, how he then took her to the Public Records Office, alone. How the first year was the hardest but most gratifying thing he has ever done.

Misha is grinning from ear to ear by the time Jensen stops talking. His heart is filled with a sweet melancholy at the love filling Jensen's words. He obviously loves his daughter a lot, and doesn't regret what happened one bit. And yet, he seems _so_ embarrassed at the whole thing.

"Hey, Jensen. I think it's a beautiful story."

Jensen looks down from where he had glued his eyes outside the window, and his green eyes meet Misha's kind smile, before going all the way back to the soft eyes that seem so close to his. Too close to his.

Jensen realises how close they've gotten, Misha resting his head in his hands, elbows on the table, and Jensen leaning forward. He straightens up, but Misha's expression doesn't change, his soft smile still stretching his lips. The taller man looks around the room, not wanting to renew the moment from earlier. It's awkward to get caught staring at a guy, especially when you just shared an intimate story with the said guy. Plus, he's not... gay. Sure, he can admit he sometimes checks guys out, but that's not being gay, that's being honest.

After a few moments, Misha looks away with a little sigh that sounds way too much like "I'm giving up", and Jensen's jaw relaxes.

"So, uh... not that I don't like hanging out with you, Misha, but I've got a class at 11 am, which is in like, three quarters of an hour, so I really have to go get things ready. Can I drop you off at the school?"

"Sure." Misha nods with a smile.

They stand up and leave the café, a half-hidden smirk on their lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flowers I put as chapter titles all have a meaning!  
> The blue periwinkle flower is a symbol for a new friend :)  
> I don't know if I made it clear or not, but the school the kids are in is a kindergarten AND an elementary school, it's kinda complicated but I hope it doesn't confuse anyone...


	3. Pink Camellia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Misha launched his "I wish for this" campain, and it's really a coincidence!  
> Also sorry for the long wait, I've been busy like crazy...  
> If you find mistakes, they're due to my very tired brain, and I didn't have the courage to proofread, so please tell me :)

The ride to the school is mostly silent, and when Misha closes the door, Jensen only waves at him with a little smile before driving away, and Misha suddenly feels really alone. Empty. This is ridiculous. Absolutely stupid. He's known Jensen for what, two hours at most. And yet, after fifteen seconds of being without him, he already feels like crap. He misses him. The time with Jensen was sometimes awkward, well, kind of, but it felt so damn natural, that, now it's gone, it  _ feels _ gone.

"Guess JJ eats at school." Misha thinks to himself, remembering Jensen will most certainly be at the theater school at 11:30. He personally always liked to have his kids home for lunch, so this year is just the same. Although he kinda thinks JJ is going to freak out if Maison leaves. He decides to change his daughter's canteen subscription, at least for the week, and he'll only take West out for lunch.

The secretary is obviously not happy about Misha already changing his mind on something, but she doesn't say anything about it, typing on her computer before giving Misha the best "please, leave, now" face she probably has ever pulled off. Misha can't bring himself to care and just leaves without another word. God, secretaries can be sexy, but they're mostly just really annoying. He hops back into the van and taps his fingers on the wheel.

Even if he tries to think of something to do until it's time to pick up his son, his mind is just blank. Except for the part that's crying about the fact that Jensen didn't give his number. Misha's forehead meets the wheel in a second, shooting a white pain through his head, and he sighs. He's acting like a whiny teenager, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's probably going to see Jensen again, soon enough, but until then, nothing in his life has changed. So why bother?

By the time he shakes his blues off of his bones, with great help of M.I.A.'s songs, it's 11:35 and he sighs, rubbing his eyes. A little knock at the door announces West's arrival and Misha unlocks the door, smiling as his son climbs into the passenger seat.

"Hi, Westie! Had a good morning?"

"Yes. Can we have pizza for lunch?"

Misha nods, too drained to argue, owning a little giggle from his son. West will possibly not understand why is father is suddenly all calm and agrees to eat  _ pizza _ for lunch, but that's if he notices, which he will probably not.

The drive to the pizzeria is nowhere near silent, West babbling about his classmates who are uninteresting, his two teachers who seem kind of nice but not that much, that girl Becky who looks nice and who he'd like to be friends with, the first class that was awfully boring, and the second that was way better, and the headmistress who... oh, the pizzeria! Misha snorts at his son's usual overexcitement. It’s impossible to stay numb when you have that little ball of energy bouncing beside you. That’s one of the things Misha loves most about his son. West is like a sun, spreading love and joy everywhere he goes. Some people are just annoyed by it but Misha thinks it’s beautiful.

They hop out of the van, and West takes his father’s hand. They enter the pizzeria with the same exact grin on their faces, both more than happy to get to eat their favorite meal.

* * *

 

“Dude, that was awesome!”

“I already told you, don’t call me dude!” Misha laughs, wiping tomato sauce off his son’s mouth. “And yes, that was a really good pizza.”

Once Misha gets home, he kicks off his sneakers and tosses his jacket on the floor, rushing to the kitchen. He needs a coffee. He just can’t have pizza and not drink a cup of coffee after. It’s not… imaginable. He starts the coffee maker, then goes fetch his laptop in his bedroom. He really has to work today. He started a new project not long ago, and his editor really got carried away when Misha told her about it. She couldn’t stop praising the originality and the beauty of the scenario, repeating over and over that she knew Misha would do an amazing job.

Misha himself isn’t entirely convinced. He even wonders if it isn’t insulting. It’s a story of two young women, in Heaven, after their death, who fall in love and have to hide. To Misha, it’s just a remake of any love story happening in a totalitarian society, except it insults all the religions that have a concept of Heaven. But still, he doesn’t really have a choice, it’s the only idea he’s had in a while that made Natasha (his editor) happy and enthusiastic. So he’s going to continue it, and publish it. Under an alias. Because he’s a coward, and he doesn’t want to threaten his already weakened career.

Like, yeah, sure, he’s a successful author, but he hasn’t published anything else than a whiny romance since Vicky died. He knows a polemic play is not what he needs right now. He should probably start something else, to keep his success alive. Well, Dmitri Tippens Krushnic’s success. He’s always used that alias as a writer, not to stay anonymous, but to keep work and personal life distinct.

He hasn’t told Jensen about how famous he is. Probably never will, because it really embarrasses him. He doesn’t think he’s particularly talented. As he goes turn off the coffee and pour himself a mug, he glances at the clock. 2:45. The afternoon is already quite advanced, and he chuckles. He’s really enjoying his day more than he thought he would.

He lays his laptop on the kitchen table, his R2-D2 mug steaming, and opens his work. He reads the last few lines he’s written over and over again, genuinely struggling to give them any interest whatsoever. He thinks it’s overdone, predictable, really dull, basically. But he’s already written 120 pages, no way he’s stopping now, or even rewriting it. He sighs, taking a sip of coffee. Urgh. It tastes really ordinary after the little wonder Jensen bought him in the morning. He starts typing, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and he’s soon written 20 more pages.

Well, soon, it’s all relative, and it’s already 16:30. He stretches, then suddenly freezes, arms over the head. Fuck. The kids. He jumps on his feet, grabs his keys and hops in the van, starting the engine faster than he thought was possible. He drives way above the speed limit, almost causing three accidents. He pulls over in front of the school, tires screeching against the concrete. He runs out and pushes the door in a hurry, running down the desert hall. There are only four kids left. A small redhead eating a chocolate bar, West and Maison… and JJ. What is she doing here? Jensen isn’t really the type to forget his daughter, is he?

“Hi, kiddos. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” he says, kneeling in front of his children and pulling them each in a tight hug. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

He stands and gives the receptionist an apologetic look, but she doesn’t even seem to see him. At the same time, the door opens again and Jensen appears, jogging towards them, taking JJ in his arms, forcing her to let go of Maison’s hand, which he doesn’t even notice, before turning away and starting to leave.

“Hi Misha, sorry, gotta dash.” he grumbles, before jogging away, his daughter on his hip.

“Dude, he totally avoided you.” West comments, his words echoing through the empty hall.

“I said it before, I’ll say it again. Don’t call me dude.” Misha sighs, before taking his kids’ hands and walking away.

The days after that go pretty quickly. Maison and JJ become inseparable, and Misha struggles almost every evening to get his daughter out of school, which secretly makes him incredibly happy. West goes talking to the girl he had noticed on the first day and they become friends. When Misha hears his son talking about her, his heart seems to grow bigger. Misha himself finishes his play, sending Natasha over the moon, and even decides to publish it under his usual alias. However, in all this perfect familial bliss, Misha doesn’t feel entirely satisfied. Because he hasn’t heard from Jensen in ages. Not since that first day, actually. Which is incredible, knowing the insane amount of time their daughters spend together.

17th September. Time has come to start preparing something for the kids’ birthdays. West’s is on Saturday, so they’ll do both on that day. A little treasure hunt, then a cake and some sweets. That should do it, right?

“Maisse, do you want to invite someone for your birthday?”

“She wants to invite Justice Jay, duh. I’d like to have Becky come over.”

“Sure, is there anyone else?” Misha smiles.

They shake their heads and return to their games, after a few seconds, though, Maison looks up, frowning, and her eyes lock with her father’s.

“Can JJ’s dad come?”

West starts giggling uncontrollably, rolling on the floor, and it’s Misha’s turn to frown. What the devil is going here?

“Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if he wants to.” he shrugs, knowing the blonde man will not come. “Let’s make invitations cards for JJ and Becky.”

Maison picks a dark red and silver square card, on which Misha glues a white smaller paper. She writes her name and asks Misha to write the rest : “JJ, I would be very happy to have you at my house for my birthday. Bring your dad. I love you very much.” Misha laughs at his daughter’s way of putting things. “Bring your dad.” What a cute girl, honestly. He loves her so freaking much.

But he didn’t know she has a relationship with Jensen. He probably has talked to her in the mornings, and gained her love, since Misha always brings (and picks up) the kids earlier than him. He hadn’t even thought about it, but maybe Maison and Jensen are close. That’s weird. He doesn’t know how he feels about it. He doesn’t know Jensen that much, and even though he knows the guy would never hurt a child, there’s still a red light in his head.

“So honey, do you know Jensen very well?” he hesitates.

Maison shakes her head, not seeming to care one bit about her father’s question. After a few seconds, though, she lets out a whisper.

“It’s because you have to get married with him.”

Misha almost chokes, the idea so unexpected that it kicked the air out of his lungs. He almost starts laughing, then understands that his daughter is everything but joking. A spark in his eyes flickers then shuts off as her lifts his daughter and sits her on his lap.

“Jensen and I are not going to get married, munchkin.”

“Why not?” Maison looks up, her panicked eyes searching for her father’s. “Why not, dad?!”

“Because we barely know each other, and he doesn’t like men.” Misha sighs, thinking to himself that he doesn’t even know about that particular information. “Plus, to get married, you have to be in love, and we’re not. He can still come to your birthday, though.” he adds, stroking her hair.

He doesn’t want to make his daughter sad, and it seems to matter so much to her. So, Jensen will come, and damn if it hurts Misha in ways he didn’t know existed. He will make his daughter happy on her birthday.

* * *

 

D-Day arrives sooner than expected. Jensen has surprisingly confirmed he’d be there with JJ, via a very cold text. Becky’s father, named Robert, texted as well and told Misha he’s bring his daughter. It’s now 13:50, and Misha is starting to get really nervous. He hasn’t seen Jensen in weeks, and now he’s supposed to spend an entire afternoon looking after kids with him? What the hell? How was that a good idea?

The doorbell rings, echoing through the hall. Misha rushes to open, praying to God it’s Robert. The door opens silently, and Misha’s breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Hi, Jensen.” he says, his voice sounding incredibly normal.

Jensen smiles, and Misha suddenly feels more at ease. The man in front of him is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. Like art. Messy hair, old blue jeans and a blue shirt, much like Misha wore on the day they met, except it looks a thousand times better on Jensen in Misha’s eyes. With that sex god on his doorstep, of course he was a little dry-mouthed at first, but the stretched lips Jensen offers him just make him feel like they’ve known each other for their whole lives. Misha lets him in, closing the door behind them. JJ is clinging to his leg, like usual, and Jensen himself looks a bit stiff. That’s weird.

“So… found the house easily?” Misha smiles, guiding them to the living room.

Jensen nods, letting go of JJ’s hand as she runs towards Maison and throws herself in her arms. They immediately pick up a toy from the floor and start playing, making Jensen laugh.

“So, long time no see, huh, Misha?” he smiles softly, locking eyes with Misha. “Is that why you invited me?”

“Nope. Maison requested your presence. She really counted on it.” Misha laughs. “Come on, I’ll show you around, it’ll only take five minutes.”

Jensen nods and here they go, walking side by side, the back of their hands sometimes brushing. Misha points at the stairs, explaining the bedrooms upstairs, then suddenly drops his arm, fearing Jensen would notice his goosebumps. Not his fault if his skin is really sensitive. He shows Jensen the kitchen, the bathroom and the guests’ bedroom. They’re soon back in the living room, and Jensen still hasn’t said a word, he just stands there, a hint of a smile on his lips. Misha’s wondering what’s going on when the doorbell rings again.

He jogs towards the hall and opens the door on the fly, sliding on the tiles. The man behind the door is quite short, but compensates with a huge warm smile. Misha immediately decides he loves that guy.

“Jensen, can you go fetch the presents in the kitchen and bring them in the lounge?” he shouts over his shoulder.

“Sure!” Jensen’s voice shouts back, making Misha smile.

“Come on in!” he laughs, letting the father and daughter in. “So, you’re Becky, huh? West doesn’t shut up about you.” he winks, and the blonde little girl turns away shyly.

Misha knows he’s being the stereotypical embarrassing father, but he’s so happy he can’t bring himself to care. His children are celebrating their birthdays with friends for the first time ever. He can’t believe he didn’t do that before. It’s one of the best things he’s ever experienced as a dad. West bursts into the hall, grabbing Becky’s arm and dragging her in the lounge. Misha snorts and holds out his hand.

“Misha Collins, West’s father. It’s Robert, right?”

“Oh, dear me.” the other man laughs, shaking Misha’s hand. “Call me Rob, please. Nice to meet you. Um… Becks has the present, I really have to go. I’ll come back at 16:00, maybe we can chat a little then?”

“Oh, yeah, sure! You’ll be right in time for the cake!” Misha blurts out, taken by surprise. “Be safe on the road!” he smiles.

Rob nods, still grinning and leaves without another word. Misha is a bit stunned, because of the shortness of that meeting, but he definitely likes Rob. He closes the door and heads back to the lounge, where the sight makes him grin like a goofy idiot. The coffee table is crawling with presents, Becky and West are on the couch, chatting, and Jensen, JJ and Maison are sitting on the floor, playing with small cars. The sweet domesticity of it makes Misha’s heart burst with happiness. He doesn’t know why it affects him so much. Maybe because he feels like the Collinses are a family again, and not just some single father and his kids. Man, does it feel good.

“Alright, team! Ready for a little treasure hunt?”

The kids cheer and clap, and Misha smiles. He’s worked so hard to make this day perfect for everyone, and he can’t wait them to find all the little wonders he’s hidden. He gives Maison the map, confident that West and Becky will help and have fun without being overwhelming to the younger girls. The garden is rather large and surrounds the whole house, and a window door grants easy access between the back garden and the lounge, and all those places are holding clues and secrets. It should be pretty fun.

The kids try to orientate the map the right way before running for their first clue in the parking spot. Misha flashes a toothy grin at Jensen and they follow their children, walking slowly in the green grass.

“How the hell did you manage to keep your grass green and fresh after the summer we had?” Jensen demands, seemingly torn between surprise and curiosity.

“Oh well, I just gave it a lot of water every night.” Misha simply answers. “I’m good at making things wet.” he adds, chuckling for a second before his heart freezes. Did he just say that? To Jensen? His heart races at a million miles per hour, as he tries to find a way out of this really awkward situation.

“I bet.” Jensen replies in a light tone.

His hair is literally shining in the sun, and it looks like it’s made of pure gold. Oh. This is bad. Misha hadn’t realised how infatuated he is. But every time he looks at the man, his heart loses control of itself, and his thoughts wander to dangerous places. He has to be more careful, if he doesn’t want to let something else slip out. It’s crystal clear that Jensen isn’t interested in him, if he laughed something like that off without batting an eyelash. And Misha is just fine with that, he just has to be careful.

“Y’know, Misha, I thought of something.”

The kids are running all over the place, and the two men are just following them everywhere, at the slowest pace ever, keeping an eye on them but not interfering with their game.

“Yeah, what is it?” Misha answers mechanically, eyeing the fridge, in which he knows fresh beers are waiting for him.

The sun is half hidden behind the clouds, but it’s still pretty hot, and Misha is starting to get uncomfortable. Eventually, he gives up and jogs up to the fridge, taking out two beers before going back to Jensen and handing him one.

“Thanks. What I was saying before you got your little craving,” he laughs “is that I noticed something. You said you were a writer, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, turns out my favorite theater writer writes under an alias. I learned that, like, a week ago. Turns out… Dmitri Tippens Krushnic’s real name is Misha Collins. Did you know that? That’s amazing, right? Coincidences are funny as hell.”

Misha turns to look at him, planting his eyes in Jensen’s. He’s not actually sure if the man is serious, or if he’s just messing with him.


	4. Gloxinia

“Hey, dude. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just being a dick!” Jensen laughs, nudging Misha’s side. “Though I’m kinda mad about you keeping that from me, I’m a big fan.” He smiles fondly, sending butterflies in Misha’s belly.

Misha looks at his feet, not knowing how to react. He had decided never to tell Jensen, but of course the guy would find out.

“I’m not… listen, I _hate_ being Dmitri. That guy… he’s not me. I write stuff and I give it to him, but he’s not me. I hate being famous. So, please, don’t talk about it.” he blurts out, avoiding Jensen’s gaze.

Jensen grabs the other man’s chin between his thumb and index, forcing him to look up. Misha’s heart stops, or starts racing, he can’t even tell, as he looks deep into the green emeralds Jensen has in place of eyes. Their faces are so close; does Jensen realize Misha could close the gap just by moving two inches forward?

“Listen, Misha. I love your writing, that’s all I’m saying. The guy I lo-like is called Misha Collins, not Dmitri Tippens Krushnic. Don’t you worry.” He says softly, his breath ghosting over Misha’s lips.

“So you like me?” Misha breathes back, unable to contain the hope in his voice.

As he feared, the moment vanishes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Jensen’s hand drops to his side, and he mutters something that sounds like “Yeah, why shouldn’t I?”, before they start following the kids again. They walk a foot from each other, and their eyes don’t meet. They don’t even dare speak. Misha is terrified. He can’t stop thinking he’s ruined it. Jensen was finally relaxing, and he had to go and ask him that?!

The kids come running towards them, and a kind smile plasters itself on Misha’s lips automatically. He hates it. That’s how he was after Vicky died. Smiling to his kids, even though he feels like hell inside. Not that he feels half as upset as he was after his wife’s death, but right now, he can’t think of feeling worse before.

West and Maison show him the bag of little figures they found all along the hunt, and the big box, wrapped in golden paper they found last. The four children open it, tearing the paper apart, to reveal a build-yourself little garden cabin. It’s all cheers and excited squeaks for a good five minutes, before they decide they’re too lazy to build it now. Becky makes West pinky promise to invite her when he decides to do it, and JJ imitates her with Maison, which almost takes Misha’s mind off darker things.

West and Maison then open the rest of their presents, for the most part environment-friendly toys, and a few books. They want to play, until Misha reminds them of the chocolate cake that’s waiting for them all.

“I’ll go get it in the kitchen, just stay here.” he tells the kids with a wink. “Jensen, can you come to take the silverware?”

Jensen nods, his face absolutely blank, and they go into the kitchen, where Misha takes the huge mountain of chocolate out of the cupboard. It’s got an insane amount of frosting, and beneath it, the best chocolate fondant the USA have ever known; Misha’s, all of this on three levels. Even Jensen’s poker face crumbles to nothing in front of this masterpiece. He points at the cake, cocking an eyebrow.

“Did you…” he starts.

“Yup.” Misha snorts. “And, as much I love seeing your mouth hanging open like that, you should close it, you’ll catch flies.” he adds, not even thinking about what he says. He doesn’t care anymore, he’s already sure Jensen hates him anyway, why not have a little fun?

Jensen doesn’t comment, he just takes the 6 plates and teaspoons that were on the table as Misha sets the candles on the cake; 7 for West all around the middle level and 5 for Maison on top. He lights the candles and starts leaving the room, thinking he’s very lucky to get away with what he just said, given Jensen’s previous reactions.

“Y’know, you should calm down on the innuendos, if you want me to keep my pants on.” Jensen states, in a matter-of-fact voice.

Misha’s breath gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the air he’s trying to get out. His head snaps to the side, his eyes finding Jensen’s in a second. The blond shrugs, and Misha can _hear_ the mental “What?”. He swallows hard, trying not to die on the spot, because it would be amazingly awkward. Different witty comebacks cross his mind, but he finds he’s unable to form words, so he just resumes walking.

In the living room, the atmosphere is so light Misha instantly relaxes and he sets the cake down on the table under the acclamations of the kids.

_Happy birthday to you,_

_Happy birthday to you,_

_Happy birthday to West and Maison,_

_Happy birthday to you!_

Jensen’s singing voice is amazing, Misha thinks. The two kids blow their candles, everyone claps. Jensen hands Misha the big knife to cut the cake, and his face doesn’t show anything, as usual, so Misha decides to just stop overthinking everything and just cut the cake, which he does. The doorbell rings, and Misha goes open the door to Robert.

“Hi again!” the short man smiles, shaking Misha’s hand for the second time in the day.

Misha shows him the way to the lounge where everyone is sitting on the floor around the coffee table - even though there are enough sofas and armchairs for everybody.

“So, Rob, meet JJ, West and Maison!” Misha grins, pointing at the kids. “And that’s Jensen. Jensen, that’s Rob, Becky’s dad.”

The two men shake hands and give each other light pats on the back, before Rob turns to his daughter and sits on the floor to hug her. Misha realizes they haven’t planned a plate for Rob, but he’s too lazy to go fetch one himself.

“Jensen, would you be so kind as to go get Rob a plate?” he says in his most serious tone.

“Yeah, sure, but there’s no need to talk like my grandmother!” Jensen snorts.

He leaves with a smirk, and Misha sits on the floor next to Rob, who lets go of his daughter to face him.

“So, did the others already leave, or is Becky the only guest?” Rob asks, half-curious, half-surprised.

“Uh, well, there’s JJ as well, and Jensen.” Misha frowns. “Her father, obviously.”

Rob frowns back, and various emotions cross his face, before understanding hits him.

“Oh! So you and Jensen are… not… together?” he finally says, sounding like he thinks it’s the most unlikely thing he’s ever said. “I thought… well, I was wrong, apparently. Anyway!” he laughs, shaking his head.

Misha hasn’t even had the time to say a thing, Rob speaking too fast for him to place a word. As the topic is apparently closed, he just sips orange juice from West’s glass, and looks at Rob with inquisitive eyes. He thinks for a minute about how he could explain the situation, and settles on not mentioning it again, partially because Rob has started chatting with the kids, and partially because he feels really uncomfortable with the subject.

Jensen comes back, and playfully pushes to the side Maison to sit between her and Misha. The two men’s thighs are pressed together and Misha’s brain freezes. What is he supposed to do? What if Jensen moves, and they actually _rub_ against each other? What if… Jensen’s elbow nudging his side interrupts his thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Jensen whispers, getting a hum in response. “If it’s because of what I said in the kitchen, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” As Misha remains stiff and troubled, he puts a hand on the other’s man back and brings his lips to his ear. “I told you, chill. Enjoy your kids’ birthday party.”

At the mention of his kids, Misha faces Jensen and gives him a thankful smile. He starts serving Rob before realizing he has served himself. Which is the perfect occasion to ask him about his job - or anything, really, as long as it starts a conversation.

Fifteen minutes later, Misha feels exhausted. Rob is so energetic it seems to drain all the energy out of everyone else. Even the kids have calmed down and are peacefully playing with Lego bricks. At 16:20, Misha complains he’s going to have to wash the dishes, Jensen says he’s going to help him, and Rob mutters something that terribly sounds like “I can’t believe it”. At 16:30, Misha claims all good things must come to an end and it’s time to call it a day, Rob, as dynamically as ever, agrees and, five minutes later, he’s gone, and Becky with him. West grumbles for a few minutes, before starting to read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and forgetting everything that surrounds him. JJ and Maison are asleep on the couch, JJ’s head resting on Maison’s stomach, and Misha doesn’t see any alternative but interact with Jensen again.

He turns to face the other man, and their eyes lock, for the umpteenth time this day. For a second, Misha forgets that he’s just standing in the middle of his living room, staring into the eyes of the guy with who he has the most complex relationship he’s ever had. For a second, he lets go, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

“So, what do you say, should we go do the dishes right away?” Jensen asks, like the look they’re sharing is really nothing. “That way, you won’t spend hours procrastinating.” he adds with a little laugh.

Misha nods, and, after making sure the kids won’t move before long, he follows Jensen in the kitchen. They put the dishes in the sink and fill it with hot water. They bicker for a few minutes about who gets to rinse, and eventually Misha lets Jensen do it, giving up with a chuckle, splashing Jensen's arm with water. They clean all the plates and spoons, along with what was used for lunch, and they're finished within five minutes.

"That has to be the fastest I've ever done the dishes!" Jensen laughs, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

It's the first time today Misha sees him looking genuinely happy, with no cloud whatsoever darkening his feelings. He didn't look that happy when he arrived, or when he watched the kids play, or when he ate his piece of cake. Actually, last time he looked so happy in Misha's presence was in their very first minutes together, when they laughed their asses off back at the school. And in all this time, the happiest he is is when he does the dishes… quickly?

"Can you believe this is only the second time we meet?" Jensen asks, more to himself than anything. "I feel like we've known each other for forever."

"Yeah, I think so too! It's weird, but… y'know. It feels kinda great!" Misha grins. His mind is racing, trying to analyze the situation. Did he say too much?

Jensen looks at him, looking almost upset, and Misha is already bracing himself for a storming off, angry Jensen, when the blond simply nods with a hum and a dreamy smile. Misha can't help but mentally kick himself for how pathetic he's being. Having a crush on a straight guy he just met, good job, what is he, fourteen years old? He's so helpless. But the way the sun falls on his hair, making it look like it's made of actual gold, his starry emerald green eyes, his cheekbones covered in freckles, his pink and perfectly shaped lips stretching into a soft smile… And it's not only that, there's also the way he carries himself, his obvious kindness, the way he talks…

"Can I just say…" Jensen starts, sighing. "I'm sorry for being a dick. I make jokes and two seconds later I'm all frowny, that's not cool for you. It's just, I don't know if you're okay with playful flirting or what, cause most of the time straight guys get super annoyed when I do that, but you keep making jokes back, and I don't really know what to do, because I don't want you to push me away, so I'm always tense and all –" Jensen's rambling is interrupted by Misha's confused face as abruptly as he had shouted. "What?"

"Well." Misha nervously laughs. "Primo, I'm not straight, I'm pan - call it bi if you don't know what it is – and secundo, it's okay, it's just jokes." Misha's throat tightens as the words make their way out. It's funny how normal he can sound when he wants to. Even if normal sounds a tad cold right now.

He feels like he's on a rollercoaster when he's with Jensen, he goes from hoping to wanting to cry to hoping again. How does the guy manage to do that? They've only known each other for a few _hours_ , if you think about it! Misha manages an awkward smile before heading back to the lounge, where nothing has moved, except the pages of _Harry Potter_. West reads really fast, when he likes a book, and he obviously likes this one a lot.

Misha feels a light touch on his upper arm and turns around, mirroring Jensen's smile. The contact is like burning his skin, and Jensen doesn't remove his hand. He looks so much more… peaceful than just a minute ago. His smile is pure again, which should make Misha feel relieved, but it really doesn't.

"I'll get going. Thanks for not minding my stupid jokes!" Jensen chuckles. "I'll see you soon, I guess!"

"Yeah, see you." Misha grumbles.

Jensen picks up JJ in his arms like she weighed nothing, without waking her up, and makes his way to the front door, not waiting for Misha to open it for him. He leaves with a last toothy smile and a wave, before the little "click" of the lock coming back into place echoes in Misha's ears.

He feels like he's failed, somehow. He remembers exactly how he felt when he left Jensen in front of the school on that first day, and this time feels worse. This is so stupid. Why does it have to be him? Why can't he have a crush on someone who wants more than share _jokes_ with him? He finds his inability to get over it really annoying. And it's even worse when he thinks he doesn't even really know Jensen.

The more he thinks about it, the more annoyed with himself he gets, so he just decides to do something else, to clear his head of this depressing situation. He picks up the TV remote and sits on the couch, channel surfing for a bit before finding a documentary on Queen Nefertiti that looks interesting. He manages to stay focused for a bit before his eyes close themselves and he drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! That's shorter than I'd have wanted but I thought it was better to post and not leave you waiting for too long...  
> Even though you've already waited quite a long time, sorry about that.


	5. Delphinium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I mention an activity center, well I invented something that doesn’t exist in America, but exists in France: basically a place where parents can put their children when they have no one to babysit them. There, they play games, sports or stuff like that.  
> I can't believe y'all Americans don't have that xD  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, this is still not proofread, so if you have any remark at all to make, please make it :)

The next week is the weirdest thing ever, the days flying really fast, with Misha having tons of paperwork to do, bills, copyright stuff and some things that weren’t sorted out about Vicky, but the nights... are excruciatingly long. At night, nightmares make him scream so loud he wakes up, and he can’t fall asleep again for hours, watching the ceiling, his dreams playing on repeat in his mind. He dreams about all sorts of things. All the basic nightmare things. Being chased, falling, losing his family, dying… but for some reason they’re so  _ vivid  _ that he constantly wakes up terrified and swimming in his sweat, which is sometimes mixed with tears. The kids never wake up; Misha would like to call it a miracle, luck through his pain, but he knows the walls are just very well isolated. There’s a reason why the baby monitor  hasn’t left their room for all this time. And he’s left alone at night, heart wrenched with pain, fear, the horrible feeling of being helpless and overall exhaustion. He often falls asleep on his desk in the afternoon without even noticing, being woken up only by the alarm reminding him he has to go fetch the kids at school. Those naps are dreamless, but Misha only feels more tired when he wakes up.

When Friday night arrives, Misha  realizes with surprise that it’s almost been a week since the kids’ birthday. A week since he last saw Jensen. Meh. They haven’t even sent each other a text, probably won’t, they have no reason to  anyway. But time really does fly sometimes. Except for those nights. He lets  out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. The kids are in the living room, probably playing, and he’s in the kitchen, trying to focus enough to cook. Which doesn’t work. He doesn’t even know where the nightmares come from. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.  And all of a sudden, starting Saturday night, boom. He can’t sleep without seeing very diverse horrible things. He decides to call his therapist tomorrow. He  has stopped seeing her about six months ago , mostly because she was very good at giving him peace with his wife’s death and helping him grieve, and a little bit because he felt guilty  to recover so quickly. He has sure been a mess for a year but, after that, the pain had faded away, leaving only a slight nostalgia.  And Misha was so mad at himself for that.

I t’s okay now though, he feels better with the whole thing, and  he definitely needs someone to talk to, someone who can understand and analyze  the reason that makes him have those dreams.  His phone ringing interrupts his thoughts and he reaches for the counter, taking the phone. He suddenly feels way more focused when he sees  _ who _ is calling. What does Jensen want with him? He slides his thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Jensen. You’re on speaker, tell me if you don’t hear me.” he says,  kind of depressed by how tired he sounds.

“ _Hi, Misha! How’s it going?”_

"Fine! I'm fine, totally fine, the kids are great. How are you?"

_"Well, y'know, the usual. I called for… Well, it's gonna come off as really douchey, especially since we didn't talk in like, a week, but I'd actually like to ask you for something...?"_

Well, that was unexpected. Jensen calling him is improbable enough, but he actually needs him?  What has he done to deserve this? Well, before getting all happy, he probably should wait to know what Jensen actually wants.

"No problem, what is it?"  he asks, curiosity clear in his voice.

_"I wondered if you'd agree to come and say hello to my_ _Saturday_ _class?”_ Jensen seems super hesitant. _“I know, you don't like DTK, it's fine, you would_ _n_ _'t have to act like him, just be yourself and talk a bit about what it's like to write theater."_

"Um, well, I guess I could manage that.”  Misha doesn’t know if he’s excited or disappointed. What’s sure is that he didn’t expect that. “It's just... I don't think I have a lot to say.  I write theater, but I don’t  _ write theater _ , y’know?”

“ _ Oh, come on. You’re one of the best of our time! You really know how to create characters, how to bring them to life, how to make the readers feel what they feel, and that’s rare in today’s plays! Working on your plays is my favorite thing, because there’s so much life in them!” _ Jensen's voice is vibrant, genuinely passionate, and Misha can feel a blush creeping on his cheeks. He has met fans before, but they usually just ask for an autograph and walk away, he’s never been a celebrity you talk to, and hearing Jensen speaking about his works like that just makes him all sorts of giddy.  A warm and soft feeling spreads in his stomach, replacing the tiredness in him.

“ Thanks, Jensen. It… thank you.” Suddenly, he feels the need to talk.  So much for the therapist, it’ll have to be Jensen, because he really wants him to know how much he just helped, with just a few words. “I haven’t  been  fe e l ing that well these last few days, and what you just  said… It helps, you have no idea.”

The line stays silent for a moment, and Misha  cringes ,  waiting for Jensen to hang up.  Because that’s what he’ll do.  Because that’s how he works, isn’t it? He runs away, as soon as Misha opens up a little about anything.

“ _You know, I asked you and you said you were fine.”_ Jensen finally says, softly.  _ “If I ask you, it’s because I care about the answer.” _ He stays silent for a few seconds.  _ “You gasped. When I talked, like five seconds ago, you gasped. You were expecting me to hang up on you, weren’t you?” _ He sighs.  _ “I’m sorry, man, I know I suck.” _ Another silence. Misha doesn’t even know what to say, so he just… waits.  _ “Anyway, what is it that bothers you?” _

It’s Misha’s turn to sigh.  He wanted to talk about it, but now he doesn’t, because it’s frankly ridiculous. Oh, he’s having nightmares, what a disaster, what an important problem! But well, Jensen asked to know, so…

“Well, I’m just exhausted. I’m so tired I can’t stay in place for too long or I’ll fall asleep.” He bites his lip, thinking. “I’m feeling a bit stupid saying that, but I’ve had these… nightmares. Every night since Saturday. And they keep waking me up. And, every time I wake up, the pain in my chest  is so intense...” The thought of it suddenly brings back the pit of angst in his stomach, with more force than before. Tears gather in his eyes and start rolling down his cheeks. “I can’t do it, Jensen. I… I’m scared of going to bed, every night, but I’m so tired… I can’t do it.” He’s sobbing, but tries to wipe away his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. Like you pointed out the other day, we barely know each other, and I don’t want to bother you with my useless story.”

“ _Hey, hey. Like I pointed out the other day, it feels like we’ve known each other for way longer than we have, and I asked you, remember. Don’t be sorry. But please, don’t cry. It’s gonna be alright, man, you’re gonna sort this all out, and you’re gonna be alright.”_ Jensen's voice is soft and soothing, and Misha’s hiccups calm down  slowly. _“Listen, I wish I could come over and talk about this, but I’ve got JJ, and it’s complicated… We’ll talk about it tomorro_ _w, okay?”_ A loud sound echoes in Jensen’s side of the phone and Misha hears the other man curse under his breath. _“Sorry, I have to go or JJ will burn the house down.”_

Misha chuckles softly. The thought of the little blonde princess throwing things around in the living room is the sweetest yet funniest thing to imagine.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve got to make dinner anyway, so… Text me the details for tomorrow?”

“ _Sure thing. Take care of yourself, tonight, take a bath before going to bed or something, okay? Bye, Misha.”_

“Bye. Sorry again about the breakdown.”

Jensen hangs up without answering, and Misha breathes deeply, rubbing his eyes.  He stretches for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his muscles tensing and relaxing. He was bent over that counter way too long, and his neck hurts. Just as he takes  out  a frying pan, his phone  d ings. It’s a text from Jensen.

_ Don’t be sorry :) Tomorrow, 1pm, at the theater, I’l l wait for you in the hall – JA _

Misha smiles at his phone,  and types back “Thx :)”  before getting back to his cooking.

After tucking the kids into bed and making sure they’re sound asleep, he goes to the bathroom and turns on the water, his breath relaxing at the familiar sound. He strips down and sits in the tub, feeling the warm liquid sliding on his skin. It feels so good, damn. He’ll have to thank Jensen for the idea. Maybe he’ll have nightmares, but at least, he’ll be relaxed. This is like, the most basic tip for insomniacs, but he hasn’t tried. Well, he has tried hot showers and it didn’t work, it even managed to make him more tense. What the heck is wrong with him?

Whatever. He needs to stop overthinking everything. He’s going to sleep, well or terribly, then tomorrow he will go to Jensen’s bloody theater class, and it’s going to be a good day. He just has to relax and enjoy his bath.

What Jensen said comes back to his mind and he smiles. That’s it. That’s the reason why he loves Jensen so much. The kindness in him. He’s such a beautiful man. Inside and out. Misha snorts. He is so pathetic. But, for the first time, he feels like the human incarnation of “what the hell?” and he lets his thoughts drift to Jensen.

When the water runs lukewarm, he quickly washes himself, empties the bathtub and dries himself off before jogging up the stairs. He almost throws himself under the covers, only deactivating his phone alarm for the next day. He closes his eyes, his exhaustion getting the best of him in under minutes.

He wakes up to the sun heating his face, and his eyes open slowly, blinking at least a thousand times -if not a million, honestly- before he gets used to the intense sunny light filling his room. He pushes his covers away and ruffles his hair, thinking that the scene must be pretty aesthetic right now. He feels really good. Apparently, that was all he needed, a good night of sleep and… wait a minute. He didn’t have a nightmare! He checks his phone; 11am. He freaking slept 13 hours straight! Oh, this is awesome.

He goes downstairs, to find West reading _Harry Potter_ out loud and Maison making a snow angel on the carpet. With a twinkle in the eyes, he sits on the floor and waits for West to finish the paragraph.

“Good morning, kiddos. Sorry for sleeping for so long, you should have come and woken me! You must be absolutely starving.” he says, his voice still gruff.

“No, no, West made me toasts!” Maison smiles.

Misha’s eyes widen in admiration and he picks up his daughter to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“He did? Good job, Westie!”

He ruffles his son’s hair and head to the kitchen, where an uncontrollable giggle escapes his lips. The kitchen table is a literal mess, with jam and butter splattered everywhere. West is the clumsiest boy when it comes to handling food, and he should have known this time would be no different. Still, he’s really proud of his son for taking care of his sister.

The morning ends smoothly, with Misha cooking some really sophisticated pasta -he’s hungry just looking at it- with cheese and mushrooms, and also just a little bit of honey, because his kids have, for some reason developed a huge love for sweet and savory food. West and Maison continue their reading of Harry Potter, and after lunch, Misha drops them off at the activity center, where they have the lovely surprise to find JJ. The

He arrives at the theater at 5 to 1 and pushes the door, a little more anxious now that he actually thinks about what he's about to do. He's freaking going to come in front of twenty people he doesn't know and tell them about writing? Who does that? That's a weird idea Jensen had, he probably just going to annoy the hell out of these students. No, no, that's it, he's going home. He'll just come up with an excuse. Jensen counts on him though, so that would be the meanest thing to just give up on him like that. If he lies and says he's ill, he could still get away with it. Whatever he does, he should probably move, because standing in the middle of a hallway isn't the most normal and reassuring thing to do. Oh, you know what, he's going to head home, watch crap TV, and-

"Misha! Hey, you made it!"

Jensen jogs down the hall and hugs him shortly. He has the widest grin and looks like today's the greatest day of his life, which is definitively not the way Misha feels.

"How are you, man?" he asks, his voice not quite matching his apparent happiness. "Any nightmares last night?"

"No, actually. Not one. Slept 13 hours!" Misha replies, smiling happily. "Guess the bath tip was a good one. Thanks."

Jensen nods and gives him a slight pat on the back. He doesn’t remove his hand, and they just stand there, staring into each other’s eyes, before Jensen chuckles and drops his hand to his side.

“Shall we?” he smiles, and Misha nods.

They start walking towards what Misha assumes is the rehearsal room. Well more like Jensen walks and Misha follows. He’s never been here, because, as strange as that might seem, he doesn’t really like watching a play. To enjoy it, he has to be sitting comfortably, alone, with all his thoughts following the words, and he just can’t have that when fifty other people are with him in the room.

One time, though, he had actually planned to go, because he was invited to a representation of one of his plays, of which he had followed the development and everything, but Vicky died on the day of the premiere, and, well, he just had other things to do after that.

He’s usually comfortable on stage, he’s had minor roles in a few plays, like, ten years ago, but he just doesn’t feel like he belongs there. He’s a writer, and he feels like a writer, not like an actor, even though some people have told him he’s really good. And, right now, the little tense ball in his stomach, he knows what it is. It’s stage fright. Because people will actually wait for something good, like, he’s a professional writer, he has to be perfect. Or maybe it’s just him, overthinking everything. Again.

"They're really nice, you'll see, you have absolutely no reason to worry." Jensen points out, like he had read Misha’s thoughts.

He gives him a reassuring smile as they get on the elevator to the 4th floor. When they get out, Jensen simply points at a large door.

"Behind these doors is your public. You ready?"

Misha swallows hard. He suddenly feels like all the life has been drained out of his body, his knees are wobbly and he can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage. He nods anyway, because he's here, so might as well do it…

They enter the room, and, while Misha was expecting everyone to be staring at him, they’re just talking among themselves and not paying any attention to him. That’s a plus. Jensen claps his hand, and a few seconds later, they’re all sitting on the floor, looking up at him.

“Hello to those I haven’t seen yet! Amelia, glad to see you’re back. So, as you can see, we have a guest today. Please welcome Misha Collins, but don’t welcome him too loudly, because they need to focus on the third floor.”

A few students mouth “Hi” or wave, some of them softly clap, and soon their eyes are glued to Misha. Jensen winks at him and goes sitting on the floor as well. Well, these students, none of them can be more than 30, or younger than 20. They’re basically the chillest age class. Which is cool.

“Yeah, hi, everyone, my name, like he said, is Misha Collins, and I am a… writer.  Uh, some of you may know me under my writing name, Dmitri Tippens Krushnic.” Some of them hum in appreciation, an d Misha grab s a chair and sit s on it. “ Well, what you have to know is that I definitely don’t consider my opinion studying-worthy or anything. It’s just… my opinion. And apparently, you’re stuck there forced to listen to it.” They all laugh, Jensen harder than the others, and it’s just enough to  give Misha the motivation he needed.

Once the room is all tidied up and everyone is gone, Jensen turns his attention back to Misha.

“Sorry for leaving you a bit our, man, but, y’know, the timing’s short, so...”

“Doesn’t matter, I had fun watching y’all. You’re an amazing teacher! I would almost want to study theater...” Misha grins, getting up of the chair he had put in a corner.

“Thanks, Misha.” Jensen laughs, throwing his head back a little. “But I should be giving compliments, not receiving them. You totally killed it! Your speech… it was moving, man. You really love writing, don’t you?”

“I do.” Misha smiles sheepishly.

“Well, talking about that, I don’t understand. How come you don’t like DTK?”

“Makes me laugh that you call him like that. Well, when I started writing, I was young, so I sort of created a character the media would like. And it got worse and worse, his personality totally drifted away from mine, and I felt like I had no control over it. That’s why I’m not really on TV or anything anymore, I just don’t want people to like a guy who’s not me. I don’t want to keep playing a character like that. And I’m too lazy to do anything about it as well, I mean, I’m not really active as a celebrity anymore.”

“You say it like it’s nothing, but I think it’s pretty sad. I feel like it’s something you should get rid of, this burden is honestly useless. Remember how you got so pissed when I mentioned him the other day?”

Misha shrugs and picks up his jacket, not looking Jensen in the eye. He doesn’t want to talk about that, especially when Jensen’s right. He doesn’t have the energy to undo all that. Maybe he should just fake his own death or something. Would be easier.

They’re soon outside, but they don’t move from the doorstep. Misha’s van is literally across the street, and he doesn’t want his time with Jensen to end just yet. They’ve barely talked at all!

“Should we go grab drinks or something?” Jensen suddenly blurts out, looking at Misha like he had said the most obvious thing in the world. “I know a pretty cool bar, just a few blocks away.”

“Oh, yeah, sure!”

M isha’s not sure where all his shyness is coming from.  He usually flirts with every human he meets, but there’s this thing to Jensen… he feels like his tiny chance with him would just vanish at the first tiny mistake  he makes.

“We’re not driving, are we? It’s like, a five-minutes walk.”

“Absolutely!” he grins.

He should really figure out whether he wants to cry or smile when he’s with Jensen. Because that’s confusing as hell. He’s usually a pretty stable guy, emotions-wise, but since he met Jensen he feels like there’s a tiny demon inside of him playing with a switch. He goes from sad to happy to stressed within mere  _seconds_ !  Ugh. He’s a grown man, he should be over stiff like this. Oh, heck, he was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize they were walking. He should stop zoning out so often.

“Man, I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I think you really should stop overthinking everything. Because the crease between your eyebrows right now… unless you’re thinking about international politics, it has no right to be there.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Misha snorts. “You shouldn’t be detailing me that much, though.”

“Well, you were busy thinking about the president of France or something, so I had to busy myself, right?”

Misha can see the scene in slow-motion. How  his head snaps to the side, how their eyes meet and how their two faces both progressively change til they burst out laughing in the most unsexy way possible.  They can’t stop laughing for at least a minute, trying to speak but failing miserably. They don’t even walk straight as they hang onto each other, trying not to faceplant on the sidewalk.

“The president of France… I can’t believe it.” Misha finally manages to whisper, wiping away tears.

“Yeah, sorry about that, it just… came to me.”

They suppress another wave of laugh as Jensen points to a bright red sign marked “the random bar”.

“There it is! And yes, that’s the real name.”

They start laughing again, more softly, and as they cross the street, Misha notices something. The back of their hands are touching. Not like brushing against each other, they’re pressed together. And it kind of feels amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, this flower title thing is getting wild, I don't know if it's going anywhere xD


End file.
